The Game of Life
by j.d.y
Summary: Edward Elric always liked doing the impossible, he just never thought the impossible included loving a dead girl.
1. Prologue

I know what you're all thinking, oh no, she's going to abandon Muscles and Automail(if you've reading that!), but no I'm not. This is a prologue for another story and I decided to post it up and see what people think. if you guys don't like it, it's coming down. Also ths will not be updated again until Muscles and Automail is over probably. I might update this once in a while during that time, but Muscles and Automail is my top priority. Also then I hope to have a good few chapters of this written down on paper. See I'm planning ahead. Thisis just a prologue by the way, nothing special.

Also thank ike1440 for making me put this up.

Date of Compltion: October 5th, 2010

Update date: October 6th, 2010

Word Count: 1,001

I do NOT own Fullmetal Alchemist.

* * *

Life is a game.

In a game you fight for the prize of winning and getting to the end. You can land on spaces that move you forward, give you rewards, and even knock you out of the game or make you start over. Rolling a die is like taking a risk and being knocked a few spaces backwards is liking a mistake and having to start over somewhere new. Spaces that you get rewards are like when you take a big risk and it was the right call, earning you a better social status, getting married, having kids, and even making money.

Moving forward is like getting older, in a game you normally are better at the game as time continues and in life it's the same principle. You're a wiser older you, who won't make the same mistakes you made twenty years ago. You know how to survive in this world without getting killed every ten seconds. When you're a child you need someone to help you, just like you do in the beginning of a game, but by the time you've been in the game long enough, you're fine and thriving, or at least attempting, unless you're just a really really bad game player. Then you just suck at life and are normally a failure.

When you're in a game you normally end up in some penalty box unless you're just that good at the game at least once. Everyone in their lifetime gets in trouble some way or another, big or small, but eventually in the game you can get out of it, by either waiting a certain amount of turns, paying game money, or even rolling the dice a certain way. It's simple concept, but in real life things are much harder. I should know.

In a game, you gamble to win and if you don't there's no big deal. You lose, so what? Your friends make fun of you for a while and then they forget until the next time you lose. And if you lose every time, I suggest a new game. In life, if you gamble the stakes are much much higher. They could be your life, your family's life, and everything else you hold dear.

Most people's lives are like a game. They take risks, are pushed back in life, win sometimes, and eventually the game is over. It's really rather simple if you think about it.

And yet there are some concepts I just can't wrap my mind around.

I don't understand how some people don't learn from their mistakes. They understood what they did was wrong, but they do it again hoping for a different end result. I can name one person who is just that damn stubborn.

Edward Elric.

I can say so much about him. He's stubborn, childish, impulsive, a fool, idiot, has no regard for public property or his own health, rash, stupid, stubborn, egomaniac, he has a god-complex (even though he won't admit it), a dog of the military, and very very stubborn. Yeah I know I said stubborn three times, but if you knew the guy, you'd understand why I said stubborn three times. Let me give you an example.

One time when he was about twenty three he tried over and over to open a jar full of peaches, refusing to allow anyone to help him. We later learned that my brother had used alchemy to solder the damn metal top to the glass jar, _that damn bastard_. After several _hours_ of trying to pry the jar's cap off, he eventually just threw it against a wall and when everyone told him he had wasted a perfectly good jar of peaches, he just ate them off the floor.

Like I said, Edward Elric is the most stubborn man on the face of this planet. The only one who even comes close to his level of pigheadness is my brother and myself. But even we know when to allow someone to help us and we're from a rich family who hates the help if anyone!

Yet I love the damn brat known as Edward Elric with all my heart.

If you look behind that stubborn and iron wall of his you discover, someone truly amazing. Sure he's stubborn but that's what keeps him and the people he holds dear alive, he's their rock in dark times, he's actually rather sweet when he has to be, he can actually fight, he's in the military now for the sake of making sure our country survives, and when he loves he doesn't hold back. He puts his whole heart into everything he does, he never half-asses anything. All of his other traits just make him all that more my Edward Elric.

One other thing that I love about the blonde ray of sunshine is that he never gives up and always tries to do the impossible. The scariest thing is that he always seems to be able to do the impossible except for one incident, but let's not get into that. He _detests_ talking about his failed human transformation. Everyone else was always telling him he was losing his mind, that the horrors of being in the military so long and everything else that had happened to him, had made him go crazy, but he proved them all wrong, proved me wrong.

Hell, seeing me would have been enough to make someone think they themselves were crazy.

I didn't even think it was possible to do what he did and hell I am living proof that the impossible isn't always impossible. Dead is dead, you don't walk among the living anymore.

Yet my stupid blonde little alchemist proved me wrong, much to my disbelief. Even now I'm still shocked when I think about what he did and still does every day, from the time he gets up until he time he goes to bed and even in his sleep.

I mean how could you love a dead girl?

* * *

Well heres the prologue! Review and tell me what you think. It will make me write faster!

Byes!

-j.d.y.


	2. Arc I:Imagination

Well I felt the need to write this chapter because well I had free time. Tomorrow or is it today I'm going to work on Muscles and Automail. I hope you all like this!

Word Count: 6,349(Without author's note)

Release date: Sunday, October 24th, 2010 at like 5:46 in the morning

Also thanks Graphospasm for listening to me prattle on about this.

Also I picture Edward looking like this or well pretty close to it: http : / browse (dot) deviantart (dot) com /?qh= & section = & global = 1&q = Fullmetal + Alchemist # / d1iujcq by darkmello(take out the spaces and where it says dot put a dot.

I do NOT own Fullmetal Alchemist. i do own this lovely Fullmetal dogtag with a shirtless Edward on it that my friend got me for my birthday.

* * *

It all started with a voice.

Edward Elric reasoned that none of this would have happened if he hadn't been stupid and went chasing after an invisible girl he thought was there. Maybe if he had just went home like he had planned and sat himself on his couch with a big glass of brandy and drank himself into a stupor before passing out on his nice black leather couch like he did every single night. But no he had to let Havoc talk him into going out and drinking until he couldn't even wobble correctly, let alone get home by himself.

Let's start at the beginning shall we.

* * *

Hawkeye once again looked at the clock on her desk. It was nearly four and that was reason enough to be anxious. If it had been any other day, it being almost four wouldn't have been a reason to be anxious but it was Wednesday and Wednesdays were days to be feared. They were the days when you'd rather not be at work or at least not anywhere near Roy Mustang's and his subordinate's offices. Everyone would avoid that office like the plague on Wednesdays, especially around four o'clock.

On Wednesdays at exactly four o'clock, State Alchemist, Major Edward Elric had to give his mission reports.

They were also the days he received new missions, but that wasn't the part people were afraid of.

Everyone knew that Roy Mustang and Edward Elric did _not_ get along. The only times they did were those rare times when they were planning something together and that would be beneficial to the both of them and even then they were still bickering on how to get it done.

There was a simple routine to the afternoon. Edward would come in, his boots making loud noises on the military's expensive floors, often tracking mud and any other substance he had trekked through while he was on his missions. All of the officers whether they were higher ups or lower than Major Elric in rank avoided him, it didn't matter. If you got in his way to Mustang's office, you were dead. Any door he would enter through was slammed, half the time coming right off the hinges. They had hired a cleanup crew just for Wednesdays to fix the damage Edward caused.

When he would finally reach Mustang's office wing, all of the Brigadier General's subordinates would suddenly have to go get coffee or go to the bathroom or at the very least hide under their desk in fear of the great destructive force of Edward Elric. Hawkeye would end up just sitting there with her paperwork, counting the minutes and the amount of shouting before she would go to intervene between her fiancé and Edward.

"It won't be long now, will it?" Jean Havoc was already lighting up a cigarette. He was leaning back in his chair, with his feet up on his desk. It was days like this he wished he had just stayed retired, but he knew he would always return to the military.

"You're not supposed to be smoking." The blonde woman didn't even look up from her paperwork, except to glance once again at the clock. It was three fifty-five. They only had about five minutes before the red and gold ball of energy and anger swept through headquarters like a wildfire.

"I think we need coffee, I don't know about you guys, but I'm gonna be doing paperwork for a long time and I need coffee to brighten up my day."Vato Falman began, already getting up from his seat, inching towards the door. The others were following suit besides Hawkeye and Havoc.

"Sit down." Everyone stilled, hearing the voice of their commanding officer.

"Sir!" They all exclaimed, jumping up and facing Roy Mustang, saluting him.

Roy Mustang hadn't changed much since the whole fight against the homunculus. He still had his black hair in the same style and those black eyes were still as calculating as ever, ready to seize up any opportunity to get farther higher up in the military's chain to become Further. People would say that he looked the same as he always did if it wasn't for the engagement band on his left hand's ring finger. Someone had finally managed to make him tie himself down.

Riza smiled at her fiancé before sitting back down at her desk, warily watching the clock. She pretty much had her way, but then again a gun to the face was a very persuading argument.

"But Sir, we all want to go get coffee!" Kain Fury exclaimed, already wondering how fast would have to be to be able to bolt out the door and be able to avoid Ed. It wasn't if he didn't like Edward, but the man was rather angry, violent these days.

"No you don't. I will no longer have major Elric running the whole Central command like he's the further. I'm his commanding officer and he's going to treat me like it." His dark black eyes flashed dangerously, before he headed back into his office.

"Do we really have to stay?" The voice of Heymans Breda broke the scared silence of the group.

"Yes you do." Hawkeye eyed the clock once again, noticing that they only had two minutes until Edward arrived. She shook her head, glaring at the men in the office until they finally settled into their seats, nervously.

What really scared them was that the Fullmetal Alchemist had a habit of getting violent, even once knocking over a wall right on top of Fury's desk. He was only saved because he had dived under his desk; it had taken them over an hour before they had pulled him out of the rubble. The twenty-two year old had always had a temper but it had only gotten worse every year, especially since Al wasn't around anymore to tame the blonde's wild temper.

It wasn't long before stomping steps were heard coming down the hallways. Hawkeye watched everyone tense up, their hands clenching their pens turning white. The future Mrs. Mustang sighed, reaching into the drawer that held her gun. Checking it for bullets quickly, she placed it in her lap. They all counted to thirty, the door slamming into the wall, causing it to shake.

Edward Elric unlike Brigadier General Mustang had changed a lot.

His golden hair was still the same length, but he kept it back in a pony tail much like his father's. His same golden eyes were the same, but they had a harder look to them, the childish innocence gone. Gone was the childish round face, it was sharper, longer, more like the adult he truly was. He was also much taller now, at about six feet. It had amazed everyone when he had just shot up like a weed eventually. He still had his automail leg and when the country and had nearly gone to war, he had given up his right arm to get his alchemy back, joining his younger brother Alphonse Elric on the battle field.

"How are you today, Edward?" Riza asked, watching the man's eyes fall straight on his superior officer's door with a glare. She always asked this; if Edward answered his mission hadn't gone too badly, if he didn't walls were coming down, quite literally.

He stormed forward, his mud covered black boots, leaving tracks across the office. His black coat was covered in holes and the rest of him just looked haggard, like he had come back from the brink of death. His black gloves were also covered in mud, were clenched in anger. He crossed the room quickly, opening Mustang's door with a loud crash, closing it so hard that the door nearly fell off its hinges. A crack appeared from the door frame, spreading across the wall. All of them stared at the door and then the crack.

"May we leave _now_?" Breda asked, worried. Hawkeye sighed, rubbing her temples. Normally Ed didn't destroy anything until either half way through his report or while he was leaving. This was a very bad sign.

"No. You heard Mustang's orders." Havoc spoke up for her, sitting back in his chair, cigarette in hand. He blew the smoke from his lungs, waiting for the first act of war.

* * *

"Did you actually write a report this time, Fullmetal?" Mustang asked, his hands folded on his desk. He examined the crack that he could see on his side of the wall, shaking his head.

"I will when you actually give me everything I need to know about my mission." The twenty-two year old fell rather ungracefully into the couch, resting his back against one arm and putting his feet up on the other arm. He placed his arms behind his head, closing his eyes.

"You're going to get mud all over my couch." Coal black eyes studied the blonde before him. He wasn't the same kid he had met all those years ago, he was an adult who had seen much more than he ever should have.

"Fuck off." The answer was simple and it had a clear meaning; _if you don't shut up, I'm going to kick your ass._ "The cleaning crew will clean it anyway."

"They shouldn't have too." Roy used his right hand to rub his temples, annoyed. Couldn't Ed ever come in, in a good mood or at the very least _clean_?

"You should give me more information instead of sending me in blind." The golden haired man growled.

"I give you all I have." They had had this argument countless times, but he never could get it through Ed's thick skull that he wasn't lying to him.

"Bullshit!" Ed yelled, sitting up. Roy had hit his nerve and caused his already short temper to explode. The Flame Alchemist sighed; he should have known this was going to happen. It always happened, he'd set the younger alchemist off, causing a large fight.

"I'm telling you the truth!" Roy stood up, slamming his hands on the table. Normally he didn't this angry this fast but time was approaching the anniversary of _that _day and Ed had caught him in a bad mood.

"Bullshit!" Ed repeated, walking over to the dark haired man's desk and slamming his hands down as well. "You could tell me more than where it is and what crime is being committed. And sometimes you don't even give me the crime! All you tell me is that, there's some disturbance and see you next Wednesday! Do you know how _fucking_ hard it is to get a mission all the way up in Briggs done in a week? One _fucking_ week is not long enough. I'm practically running from place to place. I've seen every inch of this country by now! Send someone else on theses damn missions!"

"I'm not the Further! I give you the missions I'm told to give you! Sometimes I get to pick and I have to make decisions based on your abilities. And the fact of the matter is that your abilities are way above average! And as much as you and I hate it, and trust me I really really hate it because of all your damn bitching, I have to give you those missions!" Roy exploded, once again hitting the desk, causing it to groan under his abuse.

"Who gives a shit? Send someone else or at the very least give me more time to complete a mission! I can't handle it anymore. Do you know how difficult it is to get from here to Xing in a week, get a mission done, and be back in a week? It's nearly impossible, but I did it because you asked me too! And then I get back expecting a damn break and then you expect me to go on another one in the morning or like that one time to go right after you gave me the mission. And you expect me to be clean? I'm not a damn machine!"

"Could have fooled me!" Roy roared, realizing his mistake a second after, but it was too late.

Ed lunged across the desk to punch his superior in the face, not giving the man a chance to respond, grabbing Roy's shirt collar and throwing him against the wall with his flesh arm. He punched his superior in the face once more.

"What do you know? I gave my arm up so I could help this country! And now I'm running around like crazy trying to fix everything you tell me too like its damn slave! I can't handle it! I'm burning myself out!" Ed growled, his shouts echoing off the walls. He shoved Roy back into the wall, hard enough to cause cracks.

"What the hell do you want me to do about it?" The Brigadier General yelled, trying to shove the younger alchemist off of him with no luck. He snapped his fingers, using a ball of fire to knock the man across the room. He had long ago realized that Ed could handle the flames.

"What the hell is going on in here?" Hawkeye busted through the door to see Ed's coat was on fire as the man tore it off himself, throwing in the direction of her fiancé. She pointed twin guns at both alchemists, glad she had decided to bring two when she barged in on this fight.

"He's a fucking bastard!" Ed declared, standing there in just a black tank top and his black pants. He crossed his arms, ready to leap across the room and kick Roy's ass.

"He's a whiner who understands nothing!" Roy roared, shaking. Putting his fingers in a snapping position, clearly telling the blonde man he was ready to have an alchemy duel any time.

"He sends me on missions back to back and expects me not to have something to say about it!" Ed went to move forward, but was stopped by a bullet going right by his face.

"Stay where you are, that goes for you too, Sir." Riza warned them both, the safety off both of her guns.

"I'm your commanding officer; I don't have to listen to you." The black haired man spoke, bursting with anger and smugness. That was until a bullet was fired right between his legs, making his face turn pale.

"And I'm your fiancé soon to be wife." The blonde women's eyes narrowed. Roy had enough sense to be scared of his beautiful fiancé who was holding a gun and promptly shut up.

"Wow she has you whipped!" Ed laughed, causing Mustang to growl. The twenty-two year old fell back into a chair in the military office.

"Shut it, brat." Slowly but surely Roy made his way to his desk, his eyes darting between the blonde woman with a gun and Edward and his very violent temper. He wasn't sure which was worse at this point.

"Fuck off bastard." Hostilities were once again returned; Edward standing up in anger.

"Start treating me like you superior officer!" Roy scolded the man. Riza watched for any sign of a fight, ready to intervene.

"Earn my respect then!" Major Elric yelled before adding, "And start giving me more information or at the very least more time. I can't handle all these missions anymore!" Ed snarled. He clenched his hands at his sides.

"It's not my fault! You've proved that you can handle them, so you're forced to do them!" Roy shouted, fighting against his raging temper and losing.

"I'm slowly deteriorating! I need a break!" The blonde yelled, throwing hands in the air in one of his now rare childish moments. Riza watched as the twenty two year old fell back into his chair, seemingly exhausted. She hadn't seen him so tired since she had first meet him.

He looked defeated, tired. Really truly looking at him, she could see the bags under his eyes and the way is hair was growing longer than he had ever really allowed. He looked like he was dead on his feet.

"How are you deteriorating? You're in the prime of health!" The Brigadier General's voice boomed off the walls, echoing off the thick walls.

"No I'm not! Do you know how many hours of sleep I get? Normally about two, if I'm lucky! My immune system is shit now because of the lack of sleep and the lack of proper nutrition. I have zero percent body fat on me! That's not healthy!" Edward screamed. "My health is awful!"

"You damned li-"

"Roy, look at him!" It was very rare when Riza Hawkeye called her fiancé by his first name, especially at work. When he did, the dark haired man knew he was in trouble and normally did whatever she told him to do. This was no different than any other time.

Roy stopped, his hand raised in the air, mid yell. The man had been about to continue yelling at the blonde, but now that he had really looked at him, he could tell that the blonde wasn't lying. Through the tight tank top, Mustang could see the Elric's ever rib, clearly defined. Now that he also looked Ed's face was thinner than before, too thin. Dark circles rested under his golden eyes. He truly was in need of a break.

Sighing Roy leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes, before using his hands to rub at his temples. Edward did need a break but what could he do about it. He'd have to ask the Further and he didn't think the old bat woman would allow it. Edward was one of her most valuable pieces along with himself and she liked to use him as a way to inspire fear.

"I'm not sure how I can help. I could ask the Further to give you the time off, but I don't think she'd allow it." Roy told the man.

"You'd help me?" Edward was shocked. It had been so long since it seemed like anybody cared.

"Of course Edward." The Brigadier General sounded clear and confidant and it nearly made the alchemist smile, but he didn't. He rarely smiled these days. "There's just the question of how."

Edward leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. He had no idea what to do about this. He knew that he couldn't continue working himself to the bone; he just didn't have the energy or the willpower to do it anymore.

"I could just quit." The silence in the room was broke and a heavy dark cloud was forced upon the once pleasant room.

"You wouldn't." Mustang snapped his head up in the direction of the blonde, shocked. He couldn't imagine the military without Edward and he knew he wasn't the only one. Many soldiers offered, begged, and pleaded to go with the alchemist on the so few missions where it was insisted he take someone with him.

"Well I could more like threaten to quit." They both watched as a sly grin took hold of his face.

"I like the way you think Elric." When had the young man before them grown so devious?

"That doesn't help him out for a few weeks. He'd still have missions between now and the time he can get an appointment to see the Further." Riza spoke up, interrupting their conversation. Both men turned to look at her, taking in the information.

"Oh isn't that just fucking great?" Major Elric muttered, angrily. His forehead hit the palms of his hands in anguish. All he wanted was to go back to his apartment and sleep.

"That's great we get one thing figured and we hit another road block." Roy felt just like his subordinate. Couldn't one thing go right or was everything forever a struggle?

"He could just take a vacation." Riza sighed, how could her fiancé and Edward be this stupid? Weren't they both known to be genius alchemists?

"What would that do?" Ed asked, raising his eyebrows in question. He had been in the military for years, but still had never really engaged himself in the politics of it.

"Simple, while you wait to threaten the Further with quitting, you can be on vacation time." The Brigadier General could see it happening. His fiancé was a genius!

"And you'd get paid for your time and get a break. Also the Brigadier General is the only one who has to sign the paperwork to give you a vacation." Riza spoke softly and watched carefully as a very small smile light up Ed's face.

"Well what are you waiting for? Sign the damn paperwork!" The blonde major yelled, already standing up and gathering his ruined coat, quickly using alchemy to fix it.

"Just go already! I don't need you to be here!" Roy batted his hand in a shoo motion towards the door clearly telling the Elric brother to get out. The Flame Alchemist didn't even look up when for once his door wasn't slammed shut.

"He has so much energy." Riza commented, placing her guns back in their rightful place. Walking over to her commanding officer, she leaned against his desk, sighing. Today could have been much worse if it had been allowed to escalate.

"He's going to go home and sleep." Roy murmured; recognizing the same look in the Elric's eyes as he had had when he came home from war. All the Elric wanted to do was bury himself in covers and never move again, he guessed.

He would never learn that he was correct.

* * *

Taylor woke up.

It had been a very long time, since she had awoken. And like all other times when she had woken up from her slumber it was _awful_.

Every time she went to sleep it would normally be for months and once she had found out it had been for two years. This time it had only been a year, but she realized that it hurt more than any other time to wake up.

When Taylor normally woke up, it felt like a thousand volts of electricity bad been booted through her system. It would start at her heart, where it would spread out in five directions. One bolt would go to her head, one to each arm, and then one to each of her legs. Most of the pain had been the same this time, it had taken the normal path, but instead of one thousand volts of electricity, it had felt like ten thousand volts.

The jolt had made her wake up incoherently, causing her to fall from her perch on the top of Central Headquarters. The woman fell straight down, phasing right through the white solid concrete walls, through the pristine tile floors, finally stopping herself on an officer's desk.

She looked around; trying to figure out what was so different this time. Never in all the years she had been dead, had she ever felt the jolt get stronger, it was always the same, never changing, just like she was. She hadn't aged since she'd died.

Taylor was in fact a ghost.

She had once been a soldier in the military along with her brother and her friends back in the Civil War against the Ishvalens. That was until one day in battle, she died and was forever doomed to be a ghost.

Searching around for a mirror, she wondered if maybe because the jolt had increased in power, she had aged. The idea brought some hope into her. She always wanted to know what she would look like, if she got older. It was strange to never look any different, at least to her.

Eventually she had to leave the officer's office, since he didn't seem to have a mirror. It was rather odd she reason for an officer not to have a mirror, most seemed to be pig headed and liked to look at themselves all day. Her brother had always had a mirror with him. _Maybe I should stop comparing everyone to him, not everyone is as cocky as Brother._ She sighed, it had been years and he still took control over nearly every part of her afterlife.

Her transparent body floated down the hallways of Central Command, allowing the people to go right through her. At one point when she first died, she hated the idea of people floating through her, but now what did it matter? She couldn't feel them and they couldn't feel her. They didn't even know she was there.

Shifting through a wall, she found herself right in the men's bathroom. Luckily she found that there no men in the bathroom and decided to just be quick and check her appearance. For some strange reason, she could see herself in a mirror, but no one else could see her.

Sighing, she realized that she hadn't changed.

Her skin was still as pale as ever, it was even made paler by her see through appearance. Her shiny black hair was still pin straight, hanging to her shoulders and her bangs still hung down her forehead to her eyebrows. Her black coal eyes were still the same as before and she was still about five foot seven. Her body might have been tall, but the rest of her was tiny, she looked fragile, but was far from it. When she was alive she had always been told she was pretty and slightly boyish.

Long ago she had figured out how to change her out fits, discarding her blue military uniform for a blue and white plaid mini skirt and a white with blue lace spaghetti strap shirt, complete with to her knees black boots. It was the same outfit she had wore on her last birthday, the last weekend before she went to war. Back then, she had been forced to keep her already short hair back, but now she let it free.

She sighed once again realizing that she still looked twenty one, the age she had been when she died seventeen years before.

Looking herself over again, she wondered if she should change outfits, before deciding what the big deal was. No one in this world could see her, so what would it matter is she wore the same outfit every single day? She happened to like this outfit and it looked good on her. But then again what did it matter?

And then the door opened.

Taylor bounced herself up to the ceiling, halfway through it. Her eyes watched the two men who entered in curiosity. They weren't going to the bathroom at all. Both of them she recognized easily, they were some of her favorite officers to watch when she decided to actually stay awake and watch the inner workings of Central.

She knew way _too_ much about the politics of Amestris.

Over the seventeen years she had been dead, the twenty one year old had tried to find things that would entertain her after finding out she didn't go into the afterlife like normal ghosts.

Most ghosts went into the afterlife after finishing their business, like seeing family members, making sure they were alright, visiting somewhere they always wanted to go, delivering an object to a loved one or some other job they thought they had to do. Some stayed for a short time, but they always decided to leave, even if they said they never would. So eventually she had stopped becoming friends with other ghosts, she couldn't handle them eventually fading away right in front of her. It hurt too much.

She had tried everything she could think over. She really didn't have any unfinished business. Her brother was alive and that had been her whole reason for joining the military was to keep him alive. He had been promoted at one point and she had stayed under him, even is she could have already been in higher rank then him.

She really didn't care for the rest of her family, her older sister Tanya and her had never gotten along. They had been a rather vicious pair, at one point Tanya had shoved her down a flight of stairs and in revenge Taylor had died her sisters hair pink. Taylor didn't get along much with her father, he was too much like her sister, but she did realize that he cared about her at their funeral. He had bought the most flowers besides her older brother and called her his 'sweet daughter'. Her mother had cried at her funeral, crying about her dear Taylor. It had been rather depressing.

Who knew that attending your own funeral would be so depressing?

Her few friends had all moved on and gotten lives of their own, gotten married, had sweet adorable daughters and other children. A friend or two had died and she had always seen them before they crossed over, and had rejoiced over seeing one another. They always wished she would let go of everything and come with them. They always left and went across the gate. But not Taylor.

So in the end she had decided to stay around Central and find out things about her family and everyone else who had decided to stay in the military that she had known. It had been a fun to spy on everyone, especially the Further. She enjoyed listening to discussions about battles and everything. Taylor had a feeling that if her brother could, he'd _love_ to hear all of the knowledge she knew. He always loved to know everything and use it for his own personal gain.

Also everyone in Central gossiped like old women.

While in the process of listening to old men talk, her favorite place had to be either the men's bathroom or the Furthers office. There was always someone talking about someone. She had come to end up loving to spy on Jean Havoc and the other men of Mustang's group; Hawkeye always kept her entertained as well.

The dark haired ghost found it funny that two of her favorites, Havoc and Falman, would decide to show up.

"That was rather odd." Falman was the first to speak. He seemed rather nervous, she noticed, her coal eyes taking him in. The ghost sat herself down on the sink counter, right in front of Havoc, while he looked in the mirror. Her boot covered feet hung off the counter, before she decided that she didn't want the boots anymore, before poofing them out of existence.

"It was, Chief never leaves Mustang's office happy." Havoc took out a cigarette, lighting it quickly. Taylor watched as he blew the smoke out, it going right through her.

"That's a bad habit." Her face scrunched up; glad she couldn't smell the disgusting smoke. Rolling her eyes, she wondered why she even bothered to say anything at all, they couldn't hear her. But then again she reasoned, she liked hearing her own voice after so long.

"He never seems happy at all." Falman agreed, splashing water onto his face.

_Who are they talking about?_

"I think I might invite him to drinks tonight." The blonde smoker blew out another puff of smoke.

"You're not supposed to have that in here." Taylor hoped down off the counter, wishing she could pull the cigarette right out of the man's hand and crush it under her feet, but she couldn't touch it.

"Do you really think he'll come?" The man raised his eyebrows in question. Edward never went anywhere with them.

"He might." Jean watched the smoke raise up towards the ceiling and into the vents.

"I'm not kidding, cigarettes kill." She liked to do this, to act like she was having a conversation with someone. Just because they couldn't hear or answer her didn't mean she couldn't talk to them.

"And he might kick your ass for even suggesting it." Now she was really interesting, who was this chief person?

"Chief isn't heartless. I can still remember the times when he was happy."

"Say his name already." Taylor groaned, sometimes it felt like people were avoiding giving her the information he needed to truly understand.

"That was before Alphonse left." The name seemed familiar, but she couldn't remember where she had heard it. She really had been asleep for a long time.

"Well I'm still inviting him. Are you coming?" Havoc put his cancer stick out, before throwing it away in the trashcan.

"Yeah, what time are we meeting?" They were walking out the bathroom door now and Taylor realized that they had locked them when they came in. _Havoc must have done it so no one would walk in and reprimand him for his smoking._ It was a normal habit of the man.

The black haired ghost followed them, floating right behind them. She noticed that the whole place seemed to be chaos. There was a cleaning crew out and people seemed to be coming out of hiding.

"Eight." Jean looked around at all the people, suddenly deciding that the coast was finally clear. "Damn, you have to hand it to the kid, he can really scare people." Havoc looked around, grinning. Leave it to Edward to have the whole headquarters in an uproar.

"I can't believe Mustang wouldn't let us leave when he got here. Did you hear them yelling?" They were worried that the wall was going to come down, _again_. "I thought the kid was going to knock down the wall again. Did you see how Fury was trying to find a reason to get to our side of the room?" The man laughed.

"He had a point though, he isn't a machine. I'd be that mad if I never got a break. Chief works himself to the bone, I'm not surprised that his health if failing."

"Who are you talking about?" Taylor never was patient, but this was getting ridiculous. Who could have a conversation about someone and not say their name once?

"He needs Alphonse." There was this Alphonse person again. Why was her mind begging for her to remember?

"He always did keep Chief in line." Jean looked like he wanted another cigarette, but they were nearing their office, so he just sighed.

"Oh well." They had just reached their office, both deciding to cut their conversation short. Hawkeye and their commander didn't enjoy gossip or well conversation in the workplace.

"And I still don't know who they're talking about." She whispered, an idea coming to her mind.

* * *

Edward really should have known that this was a bad idea from the start. Why had he even allowed Havoc to talk him into this? All he had wanted to do was stay in his apartment for once and drink and then pass out on his couch, sleeping until noon.

He did _not_ want to be in a bar. He did _not_ want Havoc and the rest of the guys next to him, off key horrible singing and trying to engage him in their conversations. He did _not_ want to be having every single girl and some just plain married but they don't care in the bar coming up to him drunk and trying to make it into his bed. He really really did _not _want to be there.

"You alright, Chief?" Havoc was drunk, flat out, on his ass drunk. He swayed in his chair; drink in on hand, with a cigarette in another. The man began to fall from his perch, but was saved when Edward reached out and sat him upright.

"Be more careful!" The blonde alchemist sighed. He was supposed to have a ride with Havoc, but that clearly wasn't going to happen.

"Lighten up!" Fury was really loose when he was drunk. Normally he was much more uptight, but this time he wasn't.

Ed shook his head, a buzzing in his ears. He felt like someone was talking to him, but because of all the noise, – music, laughing, talking – he couldn't hear what it saying. It had been that way since Havoc had dropped by and picked him up. He could have sworn he had heard a voice, but then Havoc had started talking, turning the radio on.

Taylor couldn't believe who she was looking at. The Fullmetal Alchemist was the one they were talking about? When she had last saw him and his brother, they had been happy together, but now he seemed so unhappy. It made her think what had happened to change him. He had seemed much happier even when he was younger and his brother was a suit of armor. She had been horrified when she had learned that bit of information and then had come to pity them.

The black haired ghost watched the group of men, her coal eyes never leaving Edward's. Actually she had situated herself directly in front of the blonde. For some strange reason she felt like talking suddenly.

"I wish you could hear me." She wondered aloud, taking in everything about him. The way the lighting was hitting his hair, making him seem dark. She watched him begin to drink glass after glass, the alcohol getting stronger every little bit. She followed him when he went up to the bar, having them give him a bottle of vodka, rum, whiskey, and brandy.

Edward sat back down at his table, the buzz in his ear getting worse. It felt like the buzzing was getting clearer but then he kept drinking and it became more of a buzz once again.

"You're going to kill your liver." Her voice was quiet as she him mix his four different types of alcohol in his glass before chugging it. The blonde sure could drink. She watched as a women came to sit next to the famous alchemist, pulling the man's hair from its tie.

"Hey big boy, wanna play?" Taylor realized easily what type of woman this one was: a whore. All she wanted was to be able to tell her friends that she'd slept with the Fullmetal Alchemist.

"Go away." His words were clear and he seemed hardly drunk at all. She watched as he grabbed the woman's wrist detangling it from his golden hair. "And do _not _touch me." He growled out, before emptying another glass into his mouth, wiping his mouth with his sleeve.

"I wasn't kidding about you killing yourself with all the alcohol." Taylor shook her head as the woman tried unsuccessfully to win Edward over, before walking away. "You sure do know how to keep the girls away, though." She sighed before taking the taking the now empty chair next to Edward.

"Shut it Al." Edward was really feeling the alcohol. He could have sworn he had heard a voice, at first he thought it had been Al, but this voice was softer, more feminine. Looking around he discovered that no one was close enough to have talked to him, since all the rest of the guys had already left.

"You should go home." Sighing, she twisted a lock of her short black hair around her fingers. Reaching over, she used her hand to bat the alcohol bottles over into Ed's lap, hoping he's go home.

Jumping up, Edward swore. How in the hell had the bottles suddenly just fell over into his lap? The major wobbled; the room spinning as he tried to figure out what was left and right. He had a feeling that it was time for him to go home. He staggered out of the bar, telling them to put his drinks on Havoc's tab. It was the bastard's fault that he was as drunk as he was.

"You should stick closer to the buildings." She felt like an older sister to her two year younger brother again. Floating behind the Elric, she tried keeping watch over him and any cars nearby.

"Stop worrying so much Al." Edward muttered, turning to look where the voice was coming from. He was shocked to discover no one there.

"I'm not Al." She muttered, before realizing something. "You can hear me?" Taylor practically yelled it. She spun around coming to a stop in front of the Elric.

"Of course I can hear you!" Edward yelled. He shook his head back and forth, looking for this mysterious person. He didn't think they were Al anymore.

"Can you see me?" She didn't think he could, but she had to ask. What was going on?

"Where are you?" Ed growled out, nearly toppling over. He was dead tired and everything wouldn't stand still and this mysterious person wasn't coming out.

"Right in front of you!" Taylor exclaimed, watching as the man tried to focus his eyes on something he clearly couldn't see.

"No you're not!" What the hell was going on? This person was clearly not in front of him. His drunken brain couldn't prove anything and he began walking towards his apartment again.

"I was until you walked right through me!"The ghost followed the blonde all the way to his apartment.

"I don't know who you are or where you're hiding or if you're just a figment of my alcohol induced stupidity but I don't give a shit. Go away." The blonde was standing in his doorway as he said this, shutting the door right as he finished, already walking into his apartment.

"That was rude!" Taylor phased through the door, following the blonde. He stopped, hearing her voice; looking back over his shoulder he saw nothing.

"Definitely an alcohol induced illusion." He shook his head. "It is not real and I'm going to ignore it." He murmured the last line over a few times, taking his shirt off as he maneuvered around his living room. He dropped the article of clothing onto the couch, heading toward the kitchen area.

"Hey you can hear me! I'm right here." She shook her head, floating beside him. Edward was rummaging the cabinets for something. "What are you looking for?" She was completely confused.

"Alcohol." He still couldn't believe he'd answered the magical voice.

"Why? Haven't you had enough?" Taylor placed her hands on her hips, wishing he could see her and all the dirty looks she was giving him.

"If I can still sit up then no and I can still hear you so that's definitely no." He grasped at the bottle, taking a big swig of it, before stumbling to the couch.

"You're going to kill yourself!"For once all of her comments about people's bad habits were finally settling in. Someone could actually hear her.

"Shut up conscience, you sound just like Al." Ed muttered, taking another drink. He planned on spending his whole vacation drinking.

"I'm not your conscience or Al!" She threw her hands in the air in frustration, setting herself down next to the blonde.

"Then what the hell are you?" He asked, taking another long drink. He laid down, his feet hanging over one end, while his head rested on the arm of the couch. His flesh arm held the bottle, while his metal arm was draped over his stomach.

"A ghost!" It was rather odd that he could hear her, she admitted and she had a feeling he would remember nothing the following morning, but she had to try right?

"Ghosts aren't real!" Ed chugged more of the bottle down, enjoying the burning taste as it went down his throat. His imagination was being really creative this time, he had to admit. "Damn the alcohol is giving me a great illusion this time."

"Yes we are! And I am not a figment of your imagination!" This guy was being so damn difficult!

"Then prove it!" The Fullmetal Alchemist growled, sending a glare in the direction of the voice. It sounded feminine and he wished his imagination had supplied a body and a face to the voice.

Taylor had the perfect way. Taking her hand, she swiped the bottle from the alchemist, before taking it to the kitchen. Quickly she poured it down the drain.

"What the fuck?" Where had his bottle gone? He was on his feet quickly following after his lost floating bottle. When he walked into his kitchen only to discover the rest of his alcohol being dumped down the drain, he nearly had a heart attack to see his bottles floating in the air.

"I told you I'm a ghost."Taylor finished pouring out the rest of the bottles.

"That's just not possible." Rolling her eyes, she wondered if this was just a fluke.

"Why don't you sit down and then we'll talk?" She offered, running her right hand through her short hair. The male adult actually looked confused and frightened. He was shaking his head back and forth, with his flesh hand on his forehead.

"I'm sick or something, this is a dream, the alcohol is making me hear things." He didn't believe it, but she could see some part of him trying. There was something in there that believed that everything was possible and it was trying to come out in that moment.

"Please listen to me." There was desperation in her voice; she needed someone to hear her. She hated being alone more than anything, even when she was a child she had always tried to be near someone, especially her younger brother. They had been as thick as thieves.

"Start at the beginning." Ed stood there in his kitchen talking to a voice. He couldn't believe it, but there was something to this. The voice held such compassion, it actually sounded like it cared and he needed someone to care. At least for a short few hours, until his brain stopped being weird and if this was all real then, even better!

"Well I'm a ghost. My name is Taylor." She figured that she had to at least say her own name. Part of her worried that he still hadn't sat down, but figured it was his choice.

"No last name?" He was curious, raising his eyebrows in question.

"No." She didn't particularly want Edward to know her last name; it wasn't anyone's business but her own.

"Well I'm Edward Elric and I'm alive." He finally said after a moment of silence. He truly was drunk.

"Well I guess all I can say is that I've been a ghost for about seventeen years now." She floated up to be eye to eye with Edward, wishing he could see her.

"How'd you die?" He had to ask, but he suddenly felt like he shouldn't have. How do you ask someone how they died? The blonde wobbled on his feet again.

"I died in the Civil War when I was twenty-one." The answer was short and clipped and he knew there was much more to it from just the tone of your voice. He had a feeling that she didn't want to discuss it, so he let it drop.

"Do you age?" He asked, if she had died seventeen years ago, she should look like she's thirty age not twenty one, but he couldn't see her, so he wasn't sure.

"I'm dead, I don't age. I can change my clothes though." She watched as he took all the information in. He didn't seem shocked, but she had a feeling that it was because he was drunk.

"Why change if no one can see you?" Edward asked, he was listening for the sound of her voice. He had definitely that Taylor was a girl; her voice was just too high to be a guys at twenty one years old.

"I hated wearing military clothing, I had to wear it when I was alive, I'm not wearing it as a ghost." She once again played with her hair, watching his facial expressions change.

"You were a soldier?" So she had been killed by an Ishvalen.

"Yes." The voice was gentle, why would she ever be in the military? The questions forming in his mind were making his head hurt, which made him sway.

Taylor watched him sway back and forth, his eyes drooping. It seemed like the alcohol was finally truly beginning to get to him. And she suddenly had the feeling that if they talked much longer they would get into things that weren't needed.

But on the other hand she was afraid of him going to sleep and waking up, unable to hear a single word from her. Suddenly she felt that maybe she didn't have to so lonely in this world.

"Why don't you go to bed?" She asked suddenly.

Edward stopped, the bed did sound good right now, but what if this was all a dream or something. He actually enjoyed this. Even if it was a figment of his imagination he didn't want it to end. He really actually was beginning to hope that this Taylor ghost was really real, so he could have someone to talk to.

"You sound like a mother." He told her, already spinning and heading in the direction of his bedroom. Taylor flowed gently behind, shaking her head.

"I did have a younger brother." And like that she formed a bond with Edward.

"How much younger?" He asked, curious. His thoughts turned to Al, oh how he missed his dear younger brother.

"We were two years apart? Why?"There seemed to be a sudden interest and she was rather intrigued.

"I'm a year older than my brother, Alphonse." The oldest Elric collapsed into his bed, burying his head in his pillow.

"Oh." She paused. He seemed to already be drifting off.

"You better still be here tomorrow imagination." Edward cracked a smile, his eyes feeling heavier than ever. For some reason his apartment didn't seem to lonely now.

"I will." Taylor sat on the bed next to the blonde man, watching as he breathed in and out. She smiled as well, watching a breeze from the open window blow his hair back and forth.

"Goodnight Taylor." He didn't know why he said it, but he did, falling into dream land.

"Goodnight Edward." She answered him.

Both hoping and praying that they'd still have each other in the morning.

* * *

Well this was a faun rather odd chapter to write. Well if anyone has any questions just ask and I'll answer.

Also this fic is not going to be updated too often.

Well until next time!

-j.d.y.


	3. Arc 1: Church

Well hi guys! Well it's been awhile but remember I have other fics to update that come before this one.

Word Count: 7,954

Date of Release: Saturday November 14th, 2010

I do NOT own Fullmetal Alchemist, sadly.

Thanks for all the reviews!

* * *

Watching the golden blonde while he was a sleep was an interesting and entertaining experience Taylor decided.

For one thing he snored, _loudly._ His snores weren't those loud obnoxious snores that most people who snored had, but a light feathery kind of snore. It was cute in an odd way. Especially how he would rub at his nose with his left arm every couple of minutes or every twenty five snores or so; she had counted.

There was also the fact that he was shirtless _and _only with a very small pair of boxers on; that made it even better. The sheets had long ago been kicked away after his sixth nightmare where he screamed and squirmed. She hadn't been able to figure out what he was saying but the view he gave her was quite nice. Normally she wasn't a pervert, but when a fine example of the male species was lying nearly naked in front of her she just had to look. She was a member of the female population, albeit a dead one.

His chest was muscular with the washboard six pack abs that most men could never ever have not matter how hard they worked out. Poor them. The skin of his chest was a tan color all the way from the top of his deliciously low boxer shorts to where on his right shoulder automail met skin; she could barely see some of the skin underneath the automail as a pale white color. _Probably from scar tissue._

Sitting on the edge of his bed, Taylor anxiously watched as he began muttering something, while twisting himself in awkward positions. The blonde ended up curled in a ball before rapidly uncurling himself to be flat on his back, arms and legs spread wide. He was sweating and the beads rolled onto the sheets, soaking them. It wasn't long before his normally silky hair was soaking wet with sweat, his body glittering in the darkness.

"Great now you reek of alcohol _and_ sweat." It had been a long time before she had been able to smell anything but she knew what they smelled like regardless. It might have been years since she'd died but she still remembered the smell of sweat and alcohol on someone. She couldn't count how many times she'd pulled her brother from a party or bought wine that he'd taken from their parents stash when he had some of his friends over. He still owed her money for that.

Playing with a lock of her short black hair, she wondered what she should do. Taylor toyed with the idea of finding something to hit him with to wake him up, but decided against it. He clearly needed to sleep off his alcohol induced coma and then wake up to be in a hopefully believing mood. She didn't think it would be a good idea if he woke up at the moment. He would probably be ready to scream and yell and reach for the alcohol again. And the last thing he needed was a bottle of alcohol.

She knew that even if he had known left he would head off to the nearest open pub and find it. He would just continue to drink until he was thrown out or they closed and neither was a good thing. Eventually he'd get himself hurt or worse and even if she didn't really know him, she didn't want that to happen. In those moments he reminded her of her baby brother. He had drunk himself in fits sometimes of rage and other times he would eventually break down and weep.

The dark haired ghost remembered the time her brother had drunk himself in such a rage after their father and forced him to enter the military that he had been contemplating setting their house on fire with their dad in it. She remembered standing in front of him and shoving him backwards, trying to stop him. Eventually he had hit her and it had taken a friend of both of them to tackle Roy to the ground and knock him out with a frying pan. She didn't think her brother ever forgave himself, especially since he had given her a black eye.

She didn't want to allow him to destroy himself. Taylor didn't know Edward that well but it had always been that way with her. Everyone always told her that one day she'd need to stop trying to help everyone. And then she had always argued that she only really helped drunks and the occasional homeless person.

When people tried to drink themselves into oblivion, Taylor had always been the one to try and help. Something about seeing her brother try and drink himself to death had had a prominent effect on her. She herself hated alcohol more than anything; always had and always would. There was just something to her that wasn't appealing about it. After her brother had nearly gotten himself killed while drunk had really been the turning point.

Before that she hadn't really liked drinking all that much. Sure Taylor would have something to drink now and then and would get drunk with her classmates, but it was only after she had been slipped alcohol, normally by her sister. And then when her brother began drinking as he became older and went to parties, she began drinking with him as well. And then when he nearly got hit by a car while drunk, she never touched the stuff again, swearing to keep her baby brother out of trouble.

She remembered learning to tell the signs of if a drink was spiked or not. Her sister and her for awhile had a game about it, well her sister did. Eventually Taylor had gotten fed up with and threatened to tell the cops and their parents where Tanya kept all her alcohol and what happened at a party a few weeks before; Tanya layed off the slipping things into her drinks. Plus it helped that she told Tanya that she's have their brother destroy all her clothes.

Pushing her family out of her mind, her dark black eyes refocused on the soaking wet blonde twenty two year old. She knew she could simply float through the wall and into the great vast darkness of the night and never return. Ed wouldn't remember her; he'd just think it was his imagination. Yet she couldn't.

Taylor ran her fingers through her hair, settling herself beside him on the bed. Her ghostly white form was only a couple of inches away from him, if she was alive, he would have felt her hot breathe on his tan face. She thought about him for a minute before focusing on him completely.

Dark place eyes watched the way his long golden hair was spread around him over the red pillow case. The dark red sheets were kicked down to his feet; only a tip of it covered his ankle, the rest of his flesh foot sticking out. The window was open, the red curtains fluttering, letting in a slight breeze, but he was still sweating. He was laying flat on his back, the red cover sheet balled into his hands, a slight frown on his face. The moonlight pooled over his bellybutton, creating odd patterns.

Sighing she watched him wiggle around on the bed, before finally releasing the sheets. Her mind raced over him and she wondered why she didn't leave.

One reason was that she was lonely and she knew that was a perfectly decent reason. She had been alone for seventeen years by herself, some ghosts falling into her life before crossing over. She had never been a loner. The dark haired ghost had always loved to be with someone else and over the years her brother and military buddies had become her constant companions. Now she was all alone.

Her other reason main reason was that she couldn't stand to see him drink himself to death. She wanted to help him, no matter what and this was her choice. Over the years she had always wanted to have people hear what she was saying. Taylor always had things to say about what people were doing, especially things that could eventually kill them. Something about the young man in front of her had her worried.

"I won't leave." Taylor whispered to the room aloud. Neither really knew each other and it didn't matter. It had never mattered to Taylor when she was alive if she knew the person or not if she helped them and it wouldn't matter now. Deciding that she was going to stay and watch over Ed at least until he was better, she settled her body into the sheets. Looking at the clock showed that there was only an hour or so before dawn.

* * *

The sun felt great on his face.

Edward didn't remember the last time he had slept in his own bed, let alone sleep in. The golden blonde tried to remember the last time he'd stayed in his own bed and not slept on either a train or at some inn somewhere. In the end he vaguely remembered staying in his own bed around March – or was it February? – and it was now August or was it September. He'd stopped caring about the dates a long time ago.

He had to admit that it was nice to sleep in his own bed.

Sighing he allowed the bed to take hold of him, but it wasn't long before he realized that he smelled. Moving his hand to feel the sheets, the twenty two year old realized that he'd sweat in his sleep again. _I must have had another nightmare._ Shaking his head, he remembered when he used to wake up from his nightmares and now he only stayed awake, remembering pieces of them. He still wasn't sure if it was better to wake up from them or stay asleep only to be forced to remember small bits and pieces. It was a difficult line to follow.

Climbing out of bed, he headed towards the bathroom after grabbing a pair of his normal black boxers. After a minute he decided to grab a tan button up shirt and black pants and then get a shower. Heading into his bathroom, he thought over the sudden need for a shirt and pants. He normally never wore them when he wasn't doing anything.

The blonde was sure he didn't have any plans for the day, but something felt off. He couldn't explain it, couldn't explain why he felt eyes on him, watching his every move. It was disturbing and something in his brain flashed, before he pushed it away. It was better to ignore whatever his brain brought into existence when he was drunk, especially when he was as drunk as he had been last night.

He decided to just jump in the shower. His bathroom wasn't large by any means, but he could take a bath if he wished and everything was nice. Alchemy was a big help when you wanted to redecorate. Playing with the hot and cold facets, the alchemist easily got his water hot, before showering.

His mind wandered over the aspects of his life. It seemed to flow over the missions easily; they were just a blur to him anymore. Get on a train, help somebody after checking into a town, get beat up, drag the bad guy to justice or kill him if it truly was bad, and then come back give a report and fight with Mustang and then do it all over again. His life was just one big cycle of missions all being the same.

It scared him in so many ways. The thing that really messed him up inside was that he killed people. Sure it was a part of his job, but he _hated_ it. What gave him the right to take someone else's life away from them, no matter what they did? He didn't believe that any human being should have the power. Yet he knew that no matter what he said that he would still kill if it was under his mission requirements or if it was needed to protect someone. That didn't make it any less upsetting.

In fact, he still _hated _it no matter the reason.

And then there was the fact about some weird voice. It kept coming into his memories as he tried to wash his long golden hair. There was something to it. It reminded him of Al and that made him incredibly sad. Al and he hadn't been together in so long…

But he pushed that away and focused on the voice. Something in him wished the feminine voice he had heard had been real. She had been there when he needed someone. He had no one. The voice had cared for him, trying to make sure he was okay. He vaguely remembered the voice telling him to go to bed so he could sleep of the effects of the alcohol. He missed having someone there to try and take care of him. He wanted it again.

The alchemist leaned his head against the blue tile of the bathroom, allowing the water to wash over him. There was something great to the hot water beating down his tan back, relaxing his stiff muscles and washing his thoughts away. Yet another thought provoker entered his mind.

Hadn't the voice had a name?

He tried to think about it. Maybe if he could think of the name of the mysterious voice, he could get the feeling of being cared about again. Maybe the voice would come back and tell him something. It would probably tell him he was being stupid, he reasoned in his mind. _But then again, the voice had been kind._ He tried to remember what exactly she had sounded like, but his mind couldn't grasp it. After a few minutes of trying he gave up, sulking.

Sighing, he turned off the water and grabbed a towel, content to shove the thoughts out of his mind. He needed something to eat and to figure out what time it was. The blonde alchemist figured that he'd slept a long time and wondered what he was going to do with the days now that he was on vacation. _I'm going to get so bored._ But then again he figured that being bored was better than being run ragged. At least this way he could eat plenty of food.

Pulling on his pants, he towel dried his hair before allowing it hang damply over his shoulders. He left the bathroom fan on to get the steam out, heading into his kitchen with his shirt still in his automail hand. He just didn't feel like putting it on at the moment.

Reaching into his fridge, Edward discovered that he not food at all. His expression turned to completely disgusted when he found cheese that had turned green and looked like it was ready to grow legs and run away. There was something that might have once been a plate of roast beef, but now it looked like a brown mob of nothing. His whole refrigerator was covered in mold and the one drink he did have in there looked like some type of wild fungus had decided to take refuge in it.

"I'm going to have to scrub this whole thing down." He muttered angrily. He didn't like cleaning, sure he liked to be neat, but this was going to take him hours. He'd have to remove all the drawers and scrub them and then the whole fridge. The alchemist might even have to unplug it and tip it over to get it thoroughly cleaned. "Great I have to clean the freezer out too." Pulling open the freezer revealing everything completely covered in ice and freezer burnt. Nothing was salvageable.

Groaning Ed kicked his refrigerator before leaning against the counter. What else in his nearly abandoned apartment did he have to fix or clean? Was everything a complete and utter wreck in his life? _Why couldn't Al still be around?_ He asked himself for the millionth time. The Fullmetal Alchemist asked himself that so many times every day.

"You do realize that you might want to take the trash out before your whole apartment stinks, right?" Ed jumped. Whipping around he put his back straight against the counter, his golden eyes searching the room at breakneck pace looking for an intruder, even checking the ceiling.

The voice was back.

"What the fuck?" Ed asked, seeing nothing once as he searched his kitchen. There was no sign of anything and the voice was too close to be in another room, it wasn't muffled enough. Yet there was something in the room. He wasn't alone and he felt it.

"We went over this last night." Taylor was annoyed. The dark haired ghost had watched Ed make his way through the apartment, deciding to give him time to shower. Finally after he had said nothing, she figured that he thought the night before was a dream or didn't even remember. "But at least you can still hear me." Sighing, she ran her fingers through her black hair. God, she hated it short.

"What is going on?" The blonde alchemist was confused. This voice matched the voice from the night before, but that had just been the alcohol talking. He hadn't had anything to drink today so there was no reason for the delusions that normally came with heavy drinking. His mind searched for answers until he figured that maybe the hard liquor was still in his system. Normally he didn't drink as much as he had the night before and never mixing the different drinks like that. It had just been a bad night.

"It's me Taylor. I met you last night, remember?" Twisting her short hair around her right index finger, she sighed. Why couldn't he just simply remember from last night? Everything would be so much simpler. But then again nothing in her existence – life and afterlife – had ever been easy or even simple. Everything was complicated in some way, shape, and or form.

"Why can't I see you?" There was no way this was happening. He still had to be affected by the alcohol. A random voice with no body just couldn't happen; it was against the Law of Physics and just about every other law somehow. Noises had to come from somewhere; they couldn't be generated by themselves.

It was impossible.

Right?

"I'm a ghost." Once again Taylor sighed. She noticed that she'd been doing that a lot lately. In some ways it made her feel like she was someone who was always depressed, but ignored it in favor of trying to get through the blockhead of a blonde alchemist.

"That's not possible." Edward stared straight ahead right where the voice was coming from. He suddenly felt like there was something there, but it just couldn't be right? Ghosts didn't exist; they were a made up thing to scare children so they'd behave or at the very least have fun around a camp fire. They weren't real.

But even as he said it a theory was taking hold. There were souls and he knew souls just didn't disappear when you died. He knew something happened to them just from the way the gate took them somewhere else. The alchemist had seen the gate so many times that he understood that the gate was a doorway for people who either were dead or tried to bring people back.

So could there be souls that just stayed on earth after they died? Just lingering between humans and staying out of the way? It was solid in some ways, while in others it wasn't. It made his head hurt and Edward was still debating the plausibility of the theory that he was still drunk and thus still able to hear things that weren't really there. It was disturbing in some ways.

"It is! I'm a ghost!" She crossed her arms over her chest watching Ed seem to toss ideas around in his head. She could tell that some part of him was starting to believe him, but the part that made him an alchemist was throwing that ghosts were real out the window and right into the garbage.

"I'm drunk. I had way too much to drink. I hit my head. Ghosts are impossible." Wet golden hair flung side to side as its owner shook his head rapidly trying to clear his head. He couldn't deal with this, not know. Even if souls did exist in this world – he wasn't admitting that it was true – people wouldn't have been able to make contact with them and they couldn't make contact with people. There as just now way.

"How can you tell a ghost that they're not possible? Because as far as I can tell I'm right here!" Throwing her hands in the air, annoyed, Taylor felt like screaming. He had been way more accepting then and she was starting to believe that had been the alcohol talking.

"I don't know!" Ed actually threw his hands in the air, reaching behind him to grab a bottle of whiskey. When his tanned hand felt nothing in the cabinets he looked away from the spot where the voice was coming from to his liquor cabinet.

It was completely and totally empty.

"What happened to my alcohol?" He asked, shocked. It had been there the night before; the blonde alchemist knew it had been. He'd gotten down some bottles, mixing things together after coming home from the bar, while trying to ignore the voice that kept trying to help him. Suddenly his bottle had went flying out of his hand and into the sink and the rest of his bottle had quickly followed.

Everything suddenly came back.

Meeting the ghost named Taylor and finding out she had a brother that was two years younger than her. She had been a ghost for seventeen years, dying at the age of twenty one. The ghost had said that she'd been in the military and had hated wearing the clothing. He had called her imagination and then told her goodnight and she him.

It was real.

Taylor watched the emotions play across his face and she realized that he really believed it this time. He knew that she was dead and a ghost and that she wasn't some figment of his imagination that he'd managed to create somewhere in the back of his mind. She was real.

"I dumped it down the sink." She smiled, glad that he finally really believed that she was real. The black haired woman didn't really like the idea of trying to convince him that she was real all the time. It would get tiresome after a while and she'd end up wanting to hit him over the head with a frying pan a couple of times.

"Why the hell did you do that?" His bright golden eyes tried to focus on the ghost but he couldn't see her; no matter what he did. All he could see was some shining space.

Groaning he wanted to yell at scream about the loss of his beloved drink. The twenty two year old man needed his alcohol; it helped him sleep, forgetting all the problems that had occurred over the last few years. It was his way of coping.

"It's bad for you." Crossing her arms over her chest, Taylor stared down the blonde. She noticed that he was staring in the direction she was floating and a thought occurred to her. "Can you see me?" Raising her black eyebrows in thought, she sincerely hoped he could.

"I don't care if it's bad for me, I need it!" He stomped his automail foot in anger, making a heavy sound. Growling, he turned around, throwing the cabinet doors open and searching through them. "And unless you're a shining ball I can't see you!"

"Wait you can see a shining ball?" Taylor floated to be next to her new blonde companion. She could see that he was annoyed. Once again she ran her hand through her black hair, trying to figure out what to do.

"Yeah its a shining ball, it just glows." Looking over in the direction of the ball he discovered that it was gone. Following his eyesight, the ghost noticed that he was looking in the direction where she had been.

"I'm not there." Rolling her eyes, she spoke, watching Ed jump at the sound of her voice. He spun around looking for the shiny light quickly.

"I can't see the shining light!" He nearly shouted. His mind was bugging him. One moment there was the shiny light that was Taylor and the next it was gone.

"I'm on your right." Taylor waved her hand in front of Ed's face, knowing that he couldn't see it. It was amusing to be doing something that he couldn't see to him that would normally make someone mad or at the very least annoyed.

"I can't see anything." Shaking his head, he wondered what was going on. For some strange reason he had been able to see some shiny object and then she was simply gone, unable for him to be able to see. Something inside him wondered what she actually looked like.

"This doesn't make any sense. You could see me as a shiny ball and now you can't see anything." Shaking her head back and forth, the dark haired ghost sighed.

"No it doesn't." Edward was beginning to get a crazy wild idea. One he would never consider under normal circumstances.

But then again this didn't file under his standard for normal and his standard of normal wasn't really quite normal. He'd learned to expect the unexpected. When you'd seen God, the bar for normal seemed to fit everything. But a ghost just did not fit his quota of normal. A chimera fit under normal to him, well not normal _normal_ but still normal.

The idea had some merit, but would they really have an answer for his questions? He didn't like going there, in fact he hated it, but right now he truly believed it was needed. It was on his list of never to do unless he had to for a funeral or a wedding. But then again he had no other choice this time.

"Where are you going?" The black haired ghost asked when Edward draped his black jacket over his flesh arm and began putting his boots on by the door. Floating after him, she handed him his keys laying on a table in the living room. The ghost was rather confused, where was he going?

"Thanks." He mumbled, as if he was out of practice of giving someone a simply thanks. And in truth he was. Something in him was struck by her generosity.

"You're welcome." Taylor smiled, despite him not being able to see it. She realized that he hadn't answered her question as she floated behind him as he left the apartment. "Where are we going?"

The alchemist wasn't sure that the ghost was going to follow him until he heard her voice. This brought on a whole load of questions. Should he have held the door open for her? Could she go through doors? Could she go through everything? Shaking his head, he resigned himself to ask her all those questions later.

"Church."

* * *

Taylor wondered why Edward looked like he'd have rather been anywhere else in the world. It was just a church. In fact it wasn't even one of those large churches with gargoyles that were five stories high with a large steeple. It actually was a rather nice church. It was completely made of stone and had a bold timey look to it that made it beautiful. It did have a steeple, but it wasn't too tall. There were large heavy double wooden doors that opened into the church.

It did have one thing that set it apart from most churches. There were glass windows all over the church. On each side of the double doors as you entered the church was six beautiful imaged glass windows. On the left depicted scenes from the beginning of creation, while on the right from the doors to where the preacher would talk the scenes were going backwards in time.

Both met in the middle with a scene of happiness, beauty, and horror.

The thirteenth glass window was split in half. On the left side was the depiction of a young woman and her infant child playing a game. The woman was dress simply, while her son was wearing pants. He seemed to be chasing a ball while his mother smiled. The other side was of both the mother and child were both covered in blood and lying face up in flowers.

"That's horrible." Taylor gasped. The scenes reminded her of the horrors of Ishvalen. They way she saw some of the people act, while she silently watched before her regiment was ordered to wipe them out. They left people dead, without a proper burial like the glass images in front of her eyes. She suddenly wanted to leave.

Ed didn't say anything, choosing to stare at the window. It reminded him of some of the things he had done on missions and he hated it. The way it was organized was to show how people had changed. He noticed that the scenes on the left were happier, while the ones on the left were darker, more violent. The middle was a mixture of them both, showing what humanity had become.

Both realized that and both wanted to leave the church but choose not to.

"I see you're struck by the windows." The pastor was an elderly man. He had gray hair and green eyes. His attire was made up of black priest robes. Smiling at them, he waved them further into the church.

"They're very odd." The alchemist struggled for the right words to say to say. He'd rather not offend the priest; he did have questions for him.

"Odd is an understatement, try horrifying or creepy." Following after Ed closely, she snorted. Her dark eyes kept darting between the windows, feeling like they were staring at her. Her fingers knotted ended up knotting themselves into the hem of her tank top. Flashes of memories were pulling themselves into her mind.

God she hated war.

Ed nodded, feeling the same way as Taylor. He had to admit the place was creepy. Wishing he could reply back to the ghost's comment or at least laugh at it, he smiled a bit instead.

"Well they are, but we believe that it shows the difference between how it was before and now. The world has changed much since its creation." The priest talked clearly and effectively.

"Did you have to be so graphic? Please ask him this." Taylor asked, hoping the twenty two year old would listen to her request. He did.

"Why is everything so graphic?" He eyes once again focused on the thirteenth window and the golden orbs just wouldn't leave it.

"Thank you." The ghost breathed, listening for the old man's answer.

"Yes. It really drives the point home." The church was quiet, all the pews empty. And then, "I'm forgetting my manners, sorry. I'm the priest here at this fine church. My name is John Tanners." John stuck his hand out for the alchemist to shake.

"My name is Edward Elric."Shaking his hand, Ed saw the priest's green eyes scan him quickly. He knew who he was.

"The alchemist?" The question was there, but it was easy to realize that the elderly man knew who he was. Ed wanted to shake his head at the stupidity of the question, but held back.

"Clearly. I've been asleep off and on for years _and_ I'm _dead_ _and_ I still know that Edward is a State Alchemist." Taylor shook her at the old man's question. "We all know that you know, so you didn't have to ask." Rolling her eyes, she sat herself Indian style in the air, her hips at Ed's hips. Her gaze fell on the glass windows again. She happened to like the ones on the left, but the right ones scared her. Yet the middle one was the one that made her skirmish.

Ed choked at what the ghost was saying. She normally seemed to be a very calm person, but she clearly didn't like stupid questions. "Yes Sir." He managed after a moment.

"You alright son?" John patted the blonde choking alchemist on the back, a concerned look on his face.

"I'm fine." Straightening himself, the man once again examined the church. They stood in silence for a few moments, the silence of the empty church echoing through them.

"May I ask what you came here for? You did have a purpose in coming here, did you not?" The robed man had his right eyebrow raised in question. _Busted…_ Ed's mind supplied him. _No one comes into a church for no reason, especially when they're not having services._

"Yes I would like to ask you some questions." Once again John's eyebrow shot up. Ed really hadn't answered anything.

"You still haven't told me why we're here." Taylor accused, causing Ed to wonder what she was doing. Was she just next to him or was she doing something else? His mind wondered over the possibilities and he really wished he could see her.

"What about?" The priest looked confused but interested in an odd way. Both the alchemist and the ghost figured that most people didn't show up randomly to his church.

"Ghosts." It was a simple answer, but a confusing one as well. It didn't explain much, but at the same time so many things were brought into play.

"You do realize that I'm a ghost, you could have just asked me." Black eyes studied the blonde male next to her. What was he thinking? Was his whole reason of coming here just to ask about ghosts?

"Ghosts." John seemed to be testing it on his tongue, rolling it around, wondering what the young man in front of him could be wondering about ghosts for. "What about them?"

"I just have a few questions." Edward wondered where he should begin with them. He had so many to think over. He had already decided to ignore anything Taylor said while he was interrogating the priest; the young man figured that she'd be rather annoyed at his decision to come here.

"Why don't we sit down and then you can ask me all you want to?"The elderly gentleman led the Fullmetal Alchemist over to a nearby pew, thankfully on the side of windows that were happy. The dark haired ghost followed behind, sitting herself on the back of the pew, between the two men. "So what exactly about ghosts do you want to talk about?"

"I was wondering if they were really real for one." Ed asked, waiting for the answer. He had a feeling that his invisible companion was going to have so much to say about what she thought on what he had just said.

"Of course we are. You have one sitting right next to you." Taylor said, seeing Ed' head turn ever so slightly in her direction. _Good, he's paying attention._ "And what kind of idiot asks if something is real when they're sitting next to what they're asking is real or not? You idiot." She wanted to flick him and she did, but it went harmlessly through him. He didn't even feel it; he never would.

_Someone who believes they're going insane._ Ed supplied to himself hearing her words. He truly believed that might be having a nervous breakdown from all the missions.

"Well the idea of a ghost is no new idea. There has been talk of them for centuries. In many cultures they are normally people who died a horrible death and can't move on, have unfinished business, or a combination of both." The priest had seemed to take a minute to think it over and both the adults had snapped to attention at his words.

"A ghost is anyone who died. Most don't stick around for long and the only ones who do leave eventually." Something in her voice turned sad, Ed realized. He wondered why and then his mind turned to think about the night before. The ghost had been a ghost since the Civil war seventeen years ago. Was it normal for ghosts to stick around that long? He didn't think so.

"How long do they typically stick around?" Taylor's response had just told him something, but he wondered what exactly she had meant about it.

"I just told you that. Are you not going to believe anything I say?" She asked crossing her arms. Her bare feet dangled down, through Ed's legs and slightly into the pew. Sometimes it scared her; the being able to just go through things.

"As long as they need to finish their business or until they're ready. Some say that ghosts leave after a certain amount of days." The light hit the glass casting colors on the two living beings, the rest just shifting through Taylor. She wondered what it would be like to feel the rays of sun heat her back.

"So it could be years?" Ed's golden eyes filtered to the spot between him and the priest. Taylor's voice seemed to come from that area.

"I've been dead for seventeen years, so of course years." Making a puffing noise, she looked at the center window again. The flashes of bodies entered her eyesight; the faces of the women and child being replaced with the people she had killed in the war. "War is bloody; I should have just run with him." She murmured, playing with the ends of her hair. Her coal eyes shut themselves in thought, refusing to look at the windows around her.

The alchemist nearly whipped his head around. Something in Taylor's voice was filled with regret and he didn't understand her words. What was she talking about running? With who?

"No." Both alchemist and ghost were brought back to reality by John. The elderly man had his hand stroking his chin in thought. "They leave after a certain amount of time, regardless if they've finished their business. They're only allowed one year on this earth to finish anything."

"That's why they always leave." Her breathe came out in a small gasp, horror clearly in her expression. Something inside Taylor snapped. Her mind whizzed over all the time she had ever had with any other ghost. Every single one of them had left in a year's time. They always said they felt something pulling them away, that the light was right there. Every one of them had been happy to cross over.

She couldn't stay here anymore. Her thoughts were pulling her away and she had to leave. She was a ghost that had never seen the light and it had been seventeen years. _Seventeen years, I shouldn't be here. I should have crossed over. Why doesn't the light come for me? Does this mean I'll never leave this earth? _Her thoughts scattered themselves through her brain, before she flew off into the space above the church.

Once she was above the church, she screamed.

There was something familiar to it. She screamed over everything; the fact that she would never be able to cross over, the fact that she was the only one like herself, everything. After seventeen years of wondering about her state, she finally had an answer to her constant questions, all because of a human male.

The alchemist jumped up at the sudden scream; it sounded like it was coming from above him. He twirled on his feet, not even caring to tell the priest, who was gawking, where he was going. Sprinting out of the church, his eyes searched the sky. He wouldn't be able to see her, but he hoped that he could at least see the glowing ball of light that was Taylor.

He couldn't see a thing.

His golden eyes searched the sky and he wished he could see her. The scream had scared him, questions spurring in his mind. Could ghosts feel pain? Did they feel things the way people did? He vaguely remembered her being able to take the alcohol bottle out of his hand the night before, so she could touch things, right?

Taylor allowed herself to float forward a bit before dropping straight down, coming to stop in front of her blonde companion. Her black eyes focused on him, her mind screaming terrors. Most would not believe she had learned much, but she knew deep in her soul that something important had been discovered. She could still see everything that had happened at war, but his gaze was burning into her.

He looked worried about her to the point that she wondered why. To him she was just some stranger, some ghost, that had flew into his home and was demanding entrance. She had vowed that morning to stay with him, to protect him, but she wondered if he'd allow that.

"Are you alright, Taylor?" His voice was low, quiet, but she could hear the worry in it. She watched as his golden eyes searched for her. He had never said her name before, she noticed.

"Why do you ask?" The eyes narrowed on her position, trying to figure out what she was doing. There was something to it that caught her attention.

"You scared me." He had to admit that it was right. Her scream had scared him, more than he let on. It sounded like her very soul was ripping itself apart, ready to disembark from this world.

"Why do you care?" She watched him, her mind wondering why she had that quiet bit to her. Her mood had plummeted, but she figured that she had always been quiet when things went bad but chatty the rest of the time. Her brother used to tell her that he could tell her mood by how much she talked.

"You cared about me last night when you made sure I got back to my apartment okay and then into bed." Ed stared at the chunk of stone, wondering once again what was going on. How was he able to hear the ghost, but no one else could?

"Let's go back to your apartment." Taylor already began floating away. There was something to his gaze that promised that he cared and she believed it. But then she had always been willing to believe someone until they turned her away.

* * *

Ed closed the door behind him, the resounding click, echoing through the apartment. Dropping his shoes and coat by the front door, he turned to the couch. He ended up sitting on it, his feet on the coffee table in front of the couch.

"Taylor you're still there right?" His golden eyes scanned the room, looking for the light, but didn't see anything.

"Yes I am. I'm actually hovering right above your feet." Sighing, the ghost felt like hiding in the couch, but she knew it wouldn't matter.

"What happened; you screamed?" Ed wandered aloud his eyes above his shoes.

"I missed the one year thing. Every ghost I've ever met has always left within a year and I haven't, I've been stuck here for seventeen years." Tilting her head back, she chose to look at the ceiling, but not really truly looking at it. Her thoughts kept filtering back to everything that had happened in the last seventeen years.

"The priest could have been wrong." He wasn't sure what he was doing. Edward had just met this ghost and he was sitting here talking to her like they were friends. He wasn't sure what they were, but it didn't really matter. He felt like he was returning a favor in helping her.

"I believe him though. Every other ghost I've ever met only sticks around for a year. I still can't believe I never added it up." Wrapping a strand of her short black hair, she wondered what she was going to do now. Was she forever cursed to walk the earth as a ghost? "I've always been alone." She added after a minute.

"You've never been able to talk to a living person before?" Ed raised his eyebrow in thought. Why was he able to hear her?

"Never."

The word hung in the air for a while.

"What's it like?" The question was an easy one and a hard one, but it just slipped out of the alchemist's mouth quickly.

"Sometimes it's not so bad, when I have another ghost to talk to, but after they all left, I stopped talking to them for the most part. I still see random ghosts and will say hi, if they're lost or something, but I never really stay with them long. Otherwise I just wander around Central Headquarters. It's a very lonely existence." Taylor watched his face, wondering what he was thinking.

"So is being alive." Ed spoke without thinking again, like always. There was a sudden truth to his words something that couldn't be placed.

"It depends." A wall of silence rose between them. "May I ask you something?" She couldn't help herself. There was something she had to know.

"Sure." It was a simple answer and wit hit his curiosity leaked through. What could a ghost want with him?

"May I stay with you for awhile?" She had no one and her spirit wanted to keep him out of trouble. He could hear her.

"Why?" Why would Taylor want to stay?

"Because I'm lonely." She spoke the truth, watching the blonde in front of her. She couldn't stand to stay by herself anymore. There was something about watching everyone else leave and always being left behind. She refused to take it anymore.

Edward thought over his answer carefully. He really couldn't control the unseen ghost in front of him at all. He figured that no matter what happened, she would probably stay anyway. And to him he wanted her to stay. It had been a long time before he'd really had anyone. He was all by himself these days and in so many ways he wanted the companionship of someone else.

"Yes." He finally breathed. He couldn't turn her down. There was something in her voice that trapped him. He thought over it for a few minutes before deciding to ignore it. Standing up, he headed for the kitchen.

"What are you doing?" Taylor asked, floating behind him. She wanted to know and the atmosphere still felt heavy, sad, confused.

"I need to clean out my kitchen and go grocery shopping soon." Reaching for a rag, he poured some soap on it before wetting it slightly. Quickly he bent down, pulling the frig door open to scrub.

"Let me help." Taylor pulled a rag down, repeating the process and reached through Ed and into the refrigerator, using her rag to clean.

"Thanks." He could feel her. The alchemist knew that she was reaching through him, it was like a sudden chill right through his heart.

"No big deal."

The two worked in silence for a while, wondering how they both had gotten into this.

The alchemist didn't understand how he'd come to having a ghost stay in his home, while the ghost didn't understand how her human companion was able to hear her. Yet both admitted that they enjoyed the company.

It was a very odd afternoon.

* * *

Well heres the new chapter! I'm not sure when the net chapter will be because I got to write another chapter for Muscles and Automail and then Natsuki first. Sorry but they're my main fics and I need to finish Muscles and Automail. It has a very long plot, but then so does this one. :)

Well thank you to all the people who revewed and added this to their lists!

Til next time!

-j.d.y.


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